


Dragon Masters: Firestorm

by TrademarkLies



Category: Dragon Masters, Original Work
Genre: Dragons, Fantasy, High Fantasy, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:08:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25182265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrademarkLies/pseuds/TrademarkLies
Summary: Hidden deeply away, dragons and magic thrive in the Eight Kingdoms.Bram Farwater wants to be a Dragon Sage like his father had been. His whole life he’s been hoping for the day he gets his chance - and now it’s finally here.Wesa Jasargo is a Dragon Apprentice and already on the road to becoming a Dragon Sage, yet he resents everything about it. His partner is Galvanize, a lightning dragon, and not his childhood friend.Lunima Minashigo is a war hero. She serves at the side of Sado, the king of Karuge, the Kingdom of Shadows. This has been her dream since she was young, but now guilt and hatred are eating her alive.These three lives are about to be entangled in a vicious struggle for power and bloodlust. The fate of the Eight Kingdoms will rest heavily on their shoulders and, if they cannot rise to the challenge, their world will fall into ruin.
Kudos: 1





	1. The Boy From The Forest

The night air was heavy with the promise of rain, dark clouds blotting out the stars and moonlight to create a dark void in the sky. Frogs and other night-dwellers called their songs into the humid night to create a cacophony of sounds. 

Bram Farwater listened intently to the music of the night, his eyes closed as he took deep breaths. After an hour of stillness, he finally sighed and slumped backward, leaning against a birch tree.  _ It’s no use.  _ He thought sourly.  _ Meditation is so boring. How am I supposed to learn anything like this?  _

The elders had always talked about the advantages and necessity of meditation, but it never stuck with Bram. While the other students his age could spend hours in utter silence, it only took him a few minutes to start fidgeting. Every time one elder or the other would stick him with a fancy new name and a punishment befitting of a “roguish and insolent child.” 

“I’m nineteen,” Bram said softly to a frog that perched on a nearby toadstool. “Not a child anymore. I don’t want to join the Forest Guard. It’s not fair that I should have to train with them.” The frog croaked once and hopped away. “I know, right? It’s stupid.” 

Hauling himself to his feet, Bram began following the frog. Its mottled green and brown back created great camouflage against the underbrush of the forest, but Bram was well-accustomed to tracking in the darkness. Having the blessed night vision of all dhampirs didn’t hurt either.  _ The only gift dear old Da left me, I suppose.  _ Bram thought grimly to himself. 

The young man was a spitting image of his mother: almond-colored skin darkened from days outside, thick curls of ruddy gold hair, and a short, lean body. Though he’d never met his father, Bram’s mother told him that he’d inherited the vampire’s rich green eyes and nothing else. 

Unfortunately, dhampir night vision wasn’t infallible and the night was especially dark. Before he’d gotten too far, Bram’s leg caught on a fallen log. He hit the ground with a  _ whuff  _ and laid there, dazed, as the frog he’d been following disappeared into the darkness. 

“You could have at least waited for me,” Bram grumbled, then gingerly felt his forehead. His fingers came away sticky with blood and he was sure it would turn into a nasty knot. Biting his lip, he used a nearby elm tree to help himself stand.  _ The elders are going to kill me.  _ He was supposed to have been spending the night in reflective meditation, not traipsing the woods. 

_ It can’t be helped, I guess.  _ Bram sighed and looked around.  _ I need to head back before dawn anyway _ . This part of the forest was familiar to him, so he’d have no problem making it back home if he stuck to the paths. And if he didn’t go chasing after any more amphibians. 

The verdant forest was waking up in the pre-dawn hours. At some point that Bram hadn’t noticed, a wind had whisked away the thick clouds and thwarted the elders’ prediction of rain. In its place was a promise of a warm spring day, with dew already beginning to gather on the grasses and flowers around the forest. By the time Bram had made it back, the sun was already rising and morning birds were just beginning their chorus. 

“Bram! You’re finally back, eh?” From above came the chirping voice of Naba, a young woman with wild red hair and blazing green eyes. “I thought the old man had you out for a whole day.” 

“Injuries prevented me from staying out, what a shame.” Bram mustered up a smile, though he wasn’t thrilled about Naba’s appearance. She was, by all accounts, a perfect match for him. Their mothers were close to one another, they had similar status in town, and they were only half a year apart. There was just a singular, monumental problem. 

“Are you finally going to give up on becoming a Dragon Sage?” Naba lept off the wooden platform she had been standing on, landing with practiced grace. Generations of living in houses built with the intertwining branches of trees had rendered most citizens of Lulea nimble and sure-footed. 

Dragon Sages were the highest-ranking members of the Lulean hierarchy. They were trained in the Six Arts - martial arts, music, astronomy, archery, political science, and painting - and were pair-bonded to one of the magnificent earth dragons.

_ Should I tell her?  _ Bram studied Naba for a long moment, then decided against it. Her temper was bad and it would just turn into an argument.  _ Besides, Mother told me to keep it a secret. _

Bram gave Naba a dry smile. “I won’t give up on it. Even if I have to train with the Forest Guard and deal with the old man insulting me every day.” It was an ancient argument between them. Naba thought that becoming a Dragon Sage was a fanciful dream for “someone like  _ you, _ ” which meant a dhampir. For Bram, it was his childhood dream. His father had been a Dragon Sage of Akmao, the Kingdom of Stone, and was killed shortly after Bram was born.

“Shame. Come on, Mum wanted you to come for breakfast.” Naba didn’t even pause to make sure Bram was following before walking away. He bit his tongue and followed, using the interlocking vines and branches to climb up to the platform above. 

From below, everything seemed like a normal forest with tall trees. However, once someone climbed the nearly-invisible ladders, they would enter into a whole new world. The city of Khiladil bloomed above ground in the safety of the trees. 

Thick branches and vines woven tightly together created pathways sturdier than any manmade bridge. Luminescent fruits hanging from lilac-colored vines lit up the areas where the dappled sunlight couldn’t, eliminating the need for fire. 

Set inside each of the sturdy trunks was a chamber, some no more than five feet wide and others almost thirty. Many of them were workshops and markets, but some housed families. This particular area was named Rosebud Grove and was dedicated to commerce, which drew most citizens of Khiladil to it daily. Children and their fox companions darted in between the legs of adults as they shopped. Bram almost felt inclined to join them, but Naba’s pace was relentless as she hurried through the crowd. 

Soon, the pair broke from Rosebud Grove and arrived in a much sleepier part of the city. Bram bit the inside of his cheek as he recognized the large cypress tree they were approaching. It was the abode of Naba and her family. 

“We’re back!” Naba called out as she knocked on the wood. 

The mat of vines and sticks swished aside to reveal the inside of the tree - a large area for dining. Naba’s mother, Iris, smiled broadly at the two of them and held the mat out of the way. “Come in, come in. Breakfast is almost ready. Fiera is downstairs cooking now.” 

Bram stepped inside and eyed the stairs in the corner. The smell of roasted venison wafted up from below, where the cooking area was stationed. Living in a tree meant cooking with fire was dangerous, so many households had cooking pits down below made of stone and dirt that couldn’t catch or spread the flames. 

This tree, like most others, had four levels: the ground floor where cooking was done, the tree floor where occupants dined and otherwise gathered, and the top floors where the family lived and slept. From the looks of it, Iris and Fiera were the only ones home right now. He let out a sigh of relief and sat down at the table. “Thank you, marm.” 

“You know you don’t have to be formal with me, Bram.” Iris sat down across from him, her pale green eyes twinkling with merriment. She pulled out her weaving supplies - stripped cherry branches and sturdy wisteria. “How is dear Gem? We haven’t gone shopping lately.” 

Bram gave the woman a weary smile. “She’s home with Beryl. He’s developed some scale rot.” 

Iris’s smile dimmed slightly. “I see,” she murmured, then started weaving the branches in front of her into a basket. Bram sighed internally. Beryl was a stone dragon, his father’s old partner. Many in Khiladil thought the old dragon didn’t belong in the city at all and looked down upon Bram’s mother for taking care of Beryl. They considered him useless and often suggested sending him back to Akmao. 

_ He’s no different than Larkspur or Umbel.  _ Bram thought sourly. Beryl was old, almost three hundred, and reaching the end of his life. Larkspur was even older, but the others adored her simply because she was an earth dragon. Umbel, on the other hand, was young but had been blinded while fighting on the frontlines. He was a hero. 

Bram saw the way Naba rolled her eyes and felt his annoyance boil up. “I got a letter, by the way.” He blurted out. “From Queen Amaranth and Lady Altheda.” Both Iris and Naba immediately looked over. “It was a thank-you for taking care of Beryl and an invitation to this year’s selection ceremony.” 

“The selection ceremony is held in Akmao this year,” Iris said. Bram could see the surprise in the woman’s face, but her voice betrayed none of her feelings. “Will you make it on time?” 

“Of course not,” Naba spoke up before Bram had a chance to. “That’s why he’s still here.” 

Iris relaxed noticeably. “Well, if that’s the case-”

“Beryl is going to fly me.” Bram interrupted, clenching his fists in his lap. “And he’s going to stay there whether or not I’m paired with a dragon of my own.”

The sudden silence was deathly. Bram watched Iris’s calm face closely. There was no trace of anger, just a mild curiosity and acceptance. When he glanced at Naba, though, she was  _ angry.  _ Her face was flushed red, making her green eyes seem even more vibrant. 

“You!” Naba seemed to have trouble even putting together a sentence. “Why?! I thought you were content now. Everyone wants to be a Dragon Sage at some point, it’s just a phase-” 

_ Naba.  _ The deep voice, not audible but still clearly masculine flowed through the room, accompanied by a rumbling growl. 

From below, a large head, roughly the size of Bram’s torso, appeared. After it followed a long, serpentine neck and a surprisingly slender body. 

It looked as if a tree had been bestowed with life - instead of flesh or scale, the dragon had bark for skin. Branch-like horns protruded from the back of its head, tipped with pale white flowers, and its entire body seemed to have moss hanging from it. Wings that almost appeared to be massive leaves were pressed flat along the body, almost impossible to see. 

“Hyssop,” Bram dipped his head respectfully to the dragon. “I didn’t know you were here.” 

_ Fiera and I were discussing which herbs to use.  _ The dragon rumbled before turning and fixing a keen emerald-colored eye on Naba. His voice then disappeared from inside Bram’s head and Naba cringed. 

_ He must be lecturing her again.  _ Bram stood up and decided to take the opportunity to head downstairs. 

Hyssop wasn’t bonded to anyone, but like many dragons, he enjoyed the company of people and lived alongside Naba’s family.

“Bram, is that you?” Fiera glanced over his shoulder as Bram make it down the stairs. “I thought so. We heard Naba yelling and thought it would be a good idea to nip that in the bud. Come here and help me peel the lychee.” 

Bram smiled. Fiera was Naba’s easy-going older brother and a balm to Bram’s frayed nerves. Though he shared his sister’s green eyes and wild red hair, they were so different it was hard to believe they were raised by the same parents. In particular, he lacked his family’s bias against other elements and would often come to bring Beryl various fruits he thought the old dragon would enjoy. 

As Fiera began talking about the children he taught to play the harp, Bram began the delicate task of peeling lychee. The fruits were easily bruised if you peeled too hard, but they needed to be cut to remove the hard seed on the inside. He was never very adept at it, but Fiera didn’t seem to mind. 

Above, there was the sound shouting before a resounding  _ crash _ . Bram paused his peeling and glanced at Fiera who stared back. They looked at each other for a long moment before Fiera handed Bram a basket brimming with soft, warm bread rolls. “Take this up there and make sure nothing’s broken, okay?” 

“No problem.” Bram laughed weakly before venturing upstairs, the basket of rolls tucked safely against his chest. 

Hyssop and Iris were sitting beside the table, the dragon almost twice the length of it. They said nothing but were both clearly deep in thought. As Bram approached, Hyssop shook his great head, a few white petals drifting off his horns. 

_ When do you leave?  _ Hyssop asked, sniffing at the basket as Bram set it down. 

“Tomorrow, hopefully.” Bram looked down sheepishly. “My mother didn’t want me to tell anyone. Said she would fill everyone in after I’d already left.” 

Iris smiled bitterly. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? I’m sure Naba will tell the entire city before lunch.” 

“Sounds like her problem, not ours.” Fiera piped up as he walked up the stairs, his arms full of various bowls and baskets. “Our only problem now is eating.” His demeanor was so vibrant and cheery that even Iris seemed to relax. 

Breakfast was all things considered, pretty decent. Fiera kept the conversation topics light and would steer away from any mention of Naba, no matter how hard Iris tried to bring her up. Hyssop gave Bram some advice on how to act in Akmao and warned him that the people and dragons there were far different than they were in Lulea. 

“How so?” Bram couldn’t help but ask. “I mean, I know what stone dragons look like and all, but do they really act that different?” 

_ Yes.  _ Hyssop’s long tongue flicked out and snatched a roll off the table.  _ Earth dragons rarely eat meat, but stone dragons are mostly carnivores. And they’re not above eating people, though they tend to favor elves or lighter fare. A dhampir won’t be on too many of their menus, but be careful anyways.  _

“A comforting thought,” Bram said, suddenly deciding he wasn’t interested in the venison on his plate. 

“I don’t think Queen Shaila would be pleased if her subjects ate anyone invited for the selection ceremony.” Fiera pointed out. “Especially someone invited by Queen Amaranth herself.” 

_ Very true.  _ Hyssop made a deep humming sound.  _ Our kingdoms have always been close.  _ He shifted slightly.  _ Even so, Bram, there’s one thing you have to watch out for more than anything else.  _

“Even more than man-eating dragons?” Bram laughed lightly. “Will the ground swallow me whole too?” 

_ The shadow dragons will be there too.  _

Instantly, the room lost its cheer and Bram felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

Shadow dragons came from Karuge, a militaristic country that always thirsted for bloodshed. It was the reason why every other country was in desperate need of Dragon Sages. They were ruthless, devouring everything set before them and leaving nothing but ashes in their wake. Their king, Sado, was spoken of only in hushed, frightened tones and little was known about him other than he had gone to great lengths to destroy Luxar, the brother-country to Karuge. 

“I suppose it’s only natural.” Even Feira seemed sobered. “They must attend and bring their own dragons for the selection.” 

“There’s a chance…” Bram trailed off, feeling his heart seize. 

_ There hasn’t been a shadow dragon to pick an outsider to be their bondmate in many centuries.  _ Hyssop fixed Bram with a sharp gaze.  _ Even the fire dragons are more likely to take you as a bondmate than they are. Be at peace, Bram.  _

Despite the dragon’s assurance, Bram felt an icy spear of fear stab through his heart. Tradition dictated that the dragon would decide who bonded with them and their counterpart - whether it be a human, elf, or anything in between - had no say in the matter. They would spend a year in training before returning to the dragon’s home country to serve. 

_ Could I end up fighting against my own country?  _ There was no doubt that any shadow dragon would enter the military to fight. Karuge’s excessive draft was the only reason why they could withstand constant wars, even going so far as to forcefully take people from Luxar’s tattered remnants. 

Bram crossed his arms and chewed on his lip thoughtfully. There were eight elemental dragons, so it was unlikely that the shadow dragon would pick him. Light dragons were rarely seen at the selection ceremonies, so he probably wouldn’t end up in Luxar either. 

He was so consumed in his own thoughts that Bram didn’t realize the mat door had swung open. Hands slammed down on his shoulders, making him jump, but it was only his mother, Gemma. She wasn’t smiling. 

“I told you not to tell anyone,” Gemma said sternly. “So explain to me why four different people have shown up at our door to ask about it.” 

Bram’s sheepishly glanced away. “I just… forgot.” 

After a long moment, Gemma sighed heavily. “I’m not surprised. You must be excited.” She turned and gave the others a small bow. “Thank you for having him for breakfast. I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to come around.” 

Iris smiled demurely. “It’s no bother. At least if he leaves with Beryl, you’ll have time to have tea with me again.” 

“I always have time to have tea with you, dear.” Gemma smiled and sat down beside Bram. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. Now, why don’t you tell me how you’ve been?” 

As the women began chatting, Bram found himself zoning out. Weariness from the sleepless night was finally eating at him, making him drowsy. It wasn’t long before he rested his chin on the table and fell asleep. 

Rain and Stone

  
  



	2. Rain and Stone

Bram had slept through the entire morning, waking at sunhigh only because his mother insisted he needed to be awake so he could sleep through the night. He did his chores as normal, but soon his nerves were beginning to eat him alive. It didn’t help that every villager and their mother decided to drop by and tell him their opinion on him leaving. 

“You’re untrained,” continued old man Jussoc. He was ancient, even for an elf, and had a thick white beard that reached to his waist. Though his appearance made him seem wise and kind, he was bitter and often gave advice that was considered questionable at best. The only thing keeping Jussoc as the teacher of the Forest Guard was the fact that he was highly trained in magic. 

“It won’t end well for you, I’m afraid.” Jussoc was pacing now, tapping his staff along the around. Bram patiently ignored him as he continued packing. “The dragons will take one look at you and laugh. Not even the lightning dragons would take someone as unruly as you.” 

When he finally realized Bram wasn’t listening, Jussoc smacked him on the back with his gnarled holly staff. “Boy! You need to pay attention to your elders! I told you to stay all night and day in the forest to meditate and you came back before dawn even broke.”

Bram huffed as the staff hit him but just bit his lip. Eventually, Jussoc would leave. The less he said, the less the old elf would have to complain about him.  _ Just hold out until he gets bored.  _ Another thwack on the back, accompanied by rigorous complaining about the youth.  _ Keep your mouth shut.  _ Another thwack.  _ Just-  _ The fourth strike finally got him. 

Whirling around, Bram seized the holly staff before it could hit him again. “Jussoc Cliffreach,” he said, fighting to push his temper down, “I’m not a child for you to hit. I’ve made my decision and I won’t change my mind. Now please leave or I will see if Beryl has an appetite for elf today.” 

Jussoc gaped at Bram for a long moment, struggling to come up with something to say.  _ Or,  _ Bram mused,  _ something to complain about.  _ After a moment more, the elf  _ harumphed!  _ and stormed out of Bram’s tree. 

_ Control your temper, boy.  _ Beryl opened one deep yellow eye and peered at Bram. Unlike Hyssop and the other earth dragons, the stone dragon was stout. When he moved, the thick plates of smooth rock that lined his body rattled while the heavier, darker stones on his head, tail, and legs scraped against the wood of the tree with a  _ skrrr  _ sound. 

A pair of horns, each thicker than Bram’s waist, curled down from Beryl’s head and ran alongside the jaw like tusks. His wings were wide and leathery, more brutish than delicate, and the edges were adorned with chunks of rock. Bram knew from experience that one swing could shatter even the most stubborn of boulders. 

Bram rested his forehead on Beryl’s cool shoulder and closed his eyes. As fierce as they looked, most stone dragons were gentle giants, and Beryl was no exception. “I’m sorry. Jussoc is so…” he trailed off sheepishly. “Well, I know I shouldn’t have snapped like that.” 

_ You have more of your father in you than your mother.  _ Beryl’s gaze softened as he stood up.  _ I shall go hunting so I’m not hungry tomorrow. You can eat while riding if need be.  _ He then struggled through the entrance to Bram’s house. 

It was what Luleans called a “bastard house.” Two trees, one a sturdy chestnut and the other a vast white oak, intertwined together in a swirling pattern to create one large, mottled tree. It had been grown with a combination of magic and tender care by Bram’s grandparents and now was one of the largest trees in the forest - and the only one large enough to house a burly stone dragon. 

With a sigh, Bram hurried upstairs to the bedroom. His sleeping alcove was messy, the blankets tossed wildly around, while his mother’s was so neat that it could be considered a crime to even sit on it. He ran his hand across the silken tapestry depicting vibrant scenes of dragons flying. It was the only decoration in the room, but it was so lovely it could have been hanging from the walls of Queen Amaranth’s Mother Tree. 

“Your father would be proud of you.” Gemma’s voice was soft and lilting, as it normally was when she was about to cry. Bram turned to his mother to see tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “He always talked about wanting his children to follow in his footsteps and become a Dragon Sage.” 

Bram smiled weakly, but it was hard to conjure up sadness for a man he’d never met. “I’m glad I finally get to be testes at the very least. It’s been a long time coming.” In truth, when he was little he would tell Gemma that he wanted to be a Dragon Sage just to see her smile. But as the years went on, it became Bram’s dream as well. He loved watching the Sages cast magic and longed to have a bondmate of his own. 

Gemma sniffled and wiped her eyes quickly - in a moment she was as regal as ever. “Good. It’s going to rain tomorrow, so I had Iris make you a cloak that’s treated with lanolin and beeswax. It should keep you dry. If it fails, though, you should stop at one of the Akmaoan towns. They’ll have leather cloaks.” 

Bram sat down on his bed and stared at the tapestry. “Mother, what if I don’t get paired with an earth dragon? What if I can’t come back.”

For a long moment, Gemma was quiet. Then she laughed and just shook her head, walking over to sit beside him. “You’re only thinking of this now? Silly boy.” She patted his head comfortingly. “I’ve known it was a possibility for a long time. But you’ll most likely come to study here if you end up with a different dragon, so we’ll have a year to prepare. Who knows? I might even move to whichever country you end up at.” 

Bram shot his mother an amused look. “I don’t think you’d enjoy it if I ended up in Vesiwai. As far as I know, neither of us can breathe underwater.” 

Gemma clicked her tongue. “Don’t think like that! Just hope you have an earth or stone dragon, even a wind dragon! Oh, those wind dragons sure are pretty.”

“I don’t think I can pick my dragon based on if my mother thinks they’re pretty or not.” Bram smiled crookedly. “But I sure will try. I can’t wait to see how Queen Brisa reacts.” 

Gemma laughed and stood up again. “Silly boy! Go on, then, shoo. I’ve left a list of things for you to go get and some money downstairs. Hurry up, we don’t have all day. You need to sleep early so you can leave at dawn, okay?” 

Bram snorted and hurried towards the stairs. “If you wanted to get rid of me, you could have just said so!” He heard Gemma laugh as he left, but he didn’t miss the tears dripping from her cheeks as she turned away to face the window. 

[Break]

“Are you sure you have everything?” Gemma asked, tightening the straps of Bram’s pack. “I don’t want you wasting money because you forgot something.” 

They were standing beside Beryl at the edge of the forest. The old dragon was strapped with a saddle and Bram’s other pack. Beryl stood patiently enough, but Bram could tell he was ready to leave already. 

Bram pulled on the lacebark cloak and glanced at his mother with a wry smile. “When was the last time I forgot something?” 

“Yesterday,” Gemma said dryly, “when you  _ forgot  _ that I told you not to mention that you were leaving.” 

_ Oops.  _ Bram had already forgotten.  _ Which,  _ he supposed,  _ proves her point.  _ “Well, I didn’t forget anything on the list you gave me. If I don’t have something, it’s because it wasn’t on the list.” 

“Uh-huh.” Gemma slightly smacked Bram’s shoulder. “Don’t get smart with me.” 

Bram grinned again, but it slipped off his face after a moment. “... so this is it, huh? Time for goodbye.” He could see the repressed sadness in his mother’s eyes as she smiled and put her hands on his shoulders. 

“Oh, Bram. It’s never time for goodbye. Just time to see you later.” Bram was pulled into a powerful hug that threatened to crush his body. His mother’s voice was barely a trembling whisper as she said, “Just be safe, okay? I love you so much.” 

Bram nodded, feeling his eyes start to sting. “I’ll be okay,” he promised as he hugged his mother back, “and I’ll come back with a dragon that you can fawn over. I-” his voice cracked and he cleared it before trying again. “I love you too, Mother.” 

Gemma sniffed and stepped back, holding Bram at arm’s reach. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, okay? Promise me you’ll write to me if you can’t come home.” 

“I will.” Bram put a hand over his mother’s. “And I’ll try to come back and let you meet my dragon.” 

His mother smiled weakly and turned to Beryl, giving him a small bow. Bram couldn’t hear what the old dragon said to her, but it made Gemma smile. “I trust you. Thank you, Beryl. For everything.” 

Bram awkwardly stood for a minute more before climbing up Beryl’s side. The dragon was girthier than any stag or moose Bram had ever ridden and the saddle’s shape made him bend his legs awkwardly, but once he settled in it was comfortable. 

“I love you!” Bram called down to his mother again as Beryl started off in a steady lope. After a few paces, the dragon beat his mighty wings and lept. For a moment it felt as if Beryl hadn’t gained enough momentum and would crash back down; then, with a few jerky wobbles, they were airborne. 

Bram gasped and clutched the harness, crouching low as the world jerked out from below him. It wasn’t his first time riding, but it was nevertheless a breathtaking experience. The dewy dawn forest was filled with the stirrings of life. Birds exploded out of the trees in fear as Beryl slid by, but he quickly rose high enough into the air that Bram could touch the wispy white clouds. 

The morning sunlight cut through the thick curtain of clouds in golden ribbons and lit the world. It made Bram squint, having gotten used to the darkness of the undergrowth, but soon he was watching the world race beneath him. Leagues of untouched verdant forests intercrossed by azure rivers stretched out to the horizon, interrupted only by the occasional meadow. 

“It’s beautiful!” Bram shouted over the wind. 

_ It will be more beautiful when we reach Akmao.  _ Beryl’s side rumbled underneath Bram as the old dragon made a  _ ruuurrrr  _ sound of excitement.  _ The mountains are spectacular.  _

“I can’t wait.” Almost immediately, Bram’s thoughts turned to his mother. She was a self-sufficient and hardworking woman, so he knew she would be okay without him, but the idea that he could potentially go years without seeing her put a despondent feeling in his heart. 

_ Silly boy,  _ Bram’s lips curled up as he thought of his mother gently scolding him. He could hear her voice now.  _ You never think ahead. This was inevitable and you’re only thinking about it now?  _

“Beryl,” Bram said softly, “do you think Mother will be okay without us?” 

It was a long moment before the old dragon replied.  _ Eventually. After Daan passed, she wasn’t right for a while. But Gemma is a strong woman. She will recover quickly.  _ Beryl tilted his wings slightly and let an earth dragon fly past. The dragon, whose horns were crested with delicate pink blossoms, glanced curiously at them before hurrying along. 

Bram watched the ground speed by with a detached interest, his thoughts straying to home. Would his mother be at home alone? He hoped not, hoped she would be with Iris and Fiera and even Naba if that meant she wouldn’t have to sit in silence. 

By the time midday came, the sky was thick with swollen rainclouds. Bram pulled the cloak closer around his body and prayed to the Great Mother that it would keep him dry. He hated being wet. 

As Bram was watching the distant clouds, a gentle  _ shaaa  _ rippled across the land and he realized that it was already beginning to rain. Moments after the sound started, droplets hit Bram’s cloak with a steady rhythm. A wayward bit of the drizzle shifted in the wind and curled through the cloak’s opening, dampening his neck and shoulders before running down his back. 

Great. 

After sulking silently over the rain, Bram became bored with the silence and asked, “Can you tell me about my Da?” He adjusted his grip on the leather harness that wrapped around Beryl’s chest. It was mainly there for riders to hold on to when they got nervous, but right now he just needed something to fidget with. 

Beryl made a deep rumbling sound in the back of his throat.  _ What can I tell you that your mother hasn’t? Daan was kind and courageous, a good man and a good soldier.  _

“You guys always say that.” Bram pointed out, tilting his head down to try and stop the rain from getting through his cloak anymore. He was tired of hearing about how honorable or glorious his father had been - all his life, Bram’s mother had refused to say one bad thing about Daan. “He was just a man, though, right? He had to have faults and did bad things. What was he  _ really  _ like?” 

With a twist of his neck, Beryl fixed Bram with one sharp yellow eye. It made chills run down his back.  _ You remind me a lot of him, actually.  _ The dragon turned away again, but his voice was still in Bram’s head.  _ Stubborn and foolhardy, never listening to what others tell him.  _

Bram felt his cheeks burn. “I’m not-”

_ Don’t start with me!  _ Beryl made a sound that was halfway between a growl and a laugh.  _ I watched you grow up, boy. I saw every time you pouted when you didn’t get your way or got into a fight when other kids didn’t listen to you.  _ His tone became softer, tinged with sorrow.  _ But I was never surprised. You may look like your mother, boy, but you are every bit your father’s son.  _

Bram was going to stick out his tongue at Beryl but thought better of it. “If he was so  _ foolhardy _ , why would you pick him?”

_ There are many things dragons can’t explain,  _ Beryl said,  _ and why we pick our bondmates is one of those things. I think what caught my eye was his… well, stubbornness. In my eyes, it was indomitability. Daan was unafraid of what others thought and unwilling to change to conform. He was like quartzite - strong and durable.  _

The old dragon went quiet then, but Bram could still feel the lingering sadness in Beryl’s mind. He shifted awkwardly, thinking of something to say to lighten the mood. After a silent minute, he blurted out “What will happen at the ceremony? Will I have to do anything?” 

Beryl made a deep laughing sound.  _ No, you won’t have to do anything special. Imagine those parties you attended with Iris and Naba, the ones where you stood around and talked. It will be like that, but dragons will approach you to talk.  _

“Great.” Bram couldn’t help but feel reluctant. “A party where we have to dress up in uncomfortable clothes and play nice with people we’ve never met. Sounds perfect.” 

_ Be glad it’s not hosted in Mincarae this year,  _ Beryl said amusedly,  _ or you would have to participate in their gladiator fights. A party is better than losing a limb, yes?  _

“Depends on how long the party lasts.” 

The rest of the day passed in relative ease, with Beryl telling Bram of the various traditions of Akmao he would have to observe or engage in. When the sun finally dipped beyond the horizon, they landed for the night. 

To Bram’s disappointment, the rain had continued for the entire day, and most of the ground was muddied. “I don’t think there’s anywhere to sleep unless you want to wake up filthy.” He muttered, eyeing the nearby trees and wondering if he could gather enough branches to make a pallet. 

Beryl snorted once.  _ Mud is soothing on the muscles, you know. You’re a picky boy.  _ Nevertheless, the dragon raised a paw and slammed it on the ground. The strike caused shivers across the ground that circled around the dragon. With a resounding  _ crack,  _ a pillar of stone shot up. The mud and water streamed off of it until it was more or less dry, and then a second wall of stone rose up to create a small overhang to keep off the rain. 

“Beryl…” Bram hesitated before touching the stone hut. “You know you didn’t have to do this.” 

_ It was the least I could do.  _ Bram could feel the exhaustion in the old dragon’s mind.  _ When I was younger, I could do more. I used to create sanctuaries as large as a city for people we rescued off the battlefield.  _ Beryl wheezed and laid down, his yellow eyes dimming.  _ Ah, that was long ago. Let me rest for a while.  _

Bram’s throat felt tight as he ran a hand down the shelter Beryl had made for him. The dragon was nearing the end of his life and summoning his powers like that was hard, especially at this magnitude. “Thank you, Beryl.” 

The dragon made a deep rumbling sound but didn’t reply, already half asleep. 

Quietly, Bram laid out his bedroll in the stone hut and pulled out the dried fruits his mother had packed. He ate them slowly as he watched the clouds churn in the sky, his heart feeling heavy. Then, as the night finally became too dark to see, he buried what he didn’t eat as offerings to the Great Mother and tried to sleep. 


	3. Akmao

_ I could fly you.  _

“No.” 

_ It would make things easier.  _

“I’m fine walking.” Wesa stalked down the corridor, doing everything in his power to ignore Galvanize following behind him. 

Both Wesa and his dragon were hurrying through the Black Opal Palace, home of Queen Shaila and the Dragon Sages of Akmao. It was a lavish place carved from a single, monumentally large piece of gray marble and adorned with every precious metal and gem known to dragonkind. It was opulent to the point of being excessive but no Akmaoan that Wesa had ever met shied away from such extravagance.

It was almost a sin to rush through the palace without giving it the proper adoration, but Wesa didn’t have time to feel bad. He was very,  _ very  _ late for a meeting with the queen. 

The servants and nobles stepped aside as the electric dragon approached, making the crowded hallway unusually easy to move through. It was helpful and that made Wesa all the more irritated. 

_ We’re supposed to meet with King Baraq tonight,  _ Galvanize continued patiently. Wesa gritted his teeth and tried to close his mind to her. 

“I don’t  _ want  _ to meet him. I want to stay in Akmao, not go off to a wasteland and live in constant destruction.” Wesa could feel Galvanize’s doubt radiating from her and, as soon as they arrived in one of the courtyards, the dragon stepped in front of him with a single, fluid movement. 

Electric dragons were known to be tall, but Galvanize was even larger than average. Her scales were deep black underlined with a vivid purple, while her body was long and slender, with graceful limbs. Behind her, a whip-like tail curled and lashed as if it had a mind of its own. 

Dozens of soft, rod-like horns crested Galvanize’s head and the back of her neck like a mane, with electricity crackling across it. Her wings were, like the rest of her, sleek and night-black, with thin purple membranes struck through with white lightning. 

_ Wesa.  _ Galvanize fixed him with a sharp violet eye.  _ You need to calm down. The queen will be upset if you are in a tizzy.  _

“And whose fault is that?” Wesa muttered. “I didn’t ask to be an Electric Sage, but here I am. Scatterbrained and unable to stay focused.” He could sense Galvanize’s hurt and felt her mind pull away from his abruptly. For a moment he felt guilty, but then he shook his head. “Come on. I’m already late.” 

Galvanize was silent as she followed Wesa through the garden. He could feel her eyes burning a hole in his back but refused to acknowledge the dragon, choosing to look at the immaculately carved marble and obsidian statues. Everything from grandiose dragons to mice the size of Wesa’s palm was sculpted with the utmost care. It almost looked as if they were breathing. 

Usually, the statue garden soothed Wesa’s nerves, but today was proving to be exceedingly  _ bad.  _

A deep, snorting sigh was the only warning Wesa got before suddenly long, razor-sharp violet claws curled around his chest. Then, with a heart-stopping lurch, the ground fell away from under his feet and he was airborne. 

“Put me down!” Wesa shouted, probing at Galvanize’s mind. She conveniently shut her mind to him and continued on her flight. Her movements were fast and graceful, her knife-like wings cutting through the air elegantly. For a moment, Wesa was caught off-guard by the beauty of her flight. And then he remembered that he was in the air against his will and started struggling again. 

_ I’ll drop you if you keep squirming like that.  _ Galvanize warned.  _ You’re moving around too much. Either you’ll fall or you’ll slice yourself open on my claws.  _

“Then why did you do this!?” Wesa shouted. “I didn’t ask to be carried off like a sack of flour!” 

_ If you had ridden me instead,  _ Galvanize retorted sharply,  _ then I wouldn’t have had to carry you like this.  _ Wesa bit his lip, knowing she was right. It just irritated him even more. 

Their flight was uncomfortable - both due to Wesa’s position and Galvanize’s angry thoughts - but thankfully short. The Black Opal Palace had a massive spire, darker than night, rising out of the center like an eternally watchful sentry. This spire was where the Sages and their dragons came to roost and also home to Queen Shaila. 

Galvanize landed beside a cluster of other Apprentices and their dragons. Not yet Sages, Wesa and the others were still spending their years in training. One year in a foster country, then four years wherever their dragons called home. 

Wesa spotted several of the Stone Apprentices, meaning they must have already arrived from their foster countries. His stomach twisted suddenly.  _ And that means…  _

“There you are!” A voice, loud and booming, cut through the room. Wesa cringed as many of the Apprentices turned to look. Tokala Riveria, as large as his voice was, moved through the crowd like a boat through reeds. He shoved people aside as he went, the smile never leaving his face. 

Just like Wesa, Tokola was tall and broad-shouldered, with the dark skin and dark hair of all Akmaoans. His eyes, however, weren’t brown and gold like Wesa’s - they were gray like a stormy sky. 

And those eyes were full of predatory malice. 

“Wesa, I thought you wouldn’t make it!” Tokala thumped him on the back like they were old friends, though the blow was hard and unpleasant. Three dragons and two Apprentices also approached - Tokala’s lackeys. 

Tokala and Wesa were cousins, but their relationship was nothing but antagonism and mutual hate. They were the same age, Wesa only a moon older, and their parents often compared them to each other. This, alongside their tendency to like and excel in the same things, had created a toxic and destructive relationship. 

“Why were you so late?” It was Catori, Tokala’s fiancee. Her smile was large but sharp-toothed and fake. “You live here after all.” 

“You’re scatterbrained lately,” Honovi added in. “I mean, I don’t blame you with that dragon of yours.” 

The words were so close to what Wesa had said earlier, but coming from the mouth of an Apprentice who had bonded with his dragon by buying his way in, it was somehow even more vulgar and hateful to Wesa. 

Galvanize’s mind pressed against Wesa’s. It shimmered with hurt, but she still impressed upon him that he shouldn’t act. He gritted his teeth and turned, walking away. 

Catori’s dragon, Jet, stepped in the way. He was a fat and ungainly brute, even for a stone dragon, but his bulk made it hard to pass by without physically shoving. 

With a deep sigh, Wesa turned to the three and plastered a smile on his face. “Honovi, Catori, Tokala. I had hoped you died in whatever country you ended up in, but it seems I’m not that lucky.” Galvanize’s mind brushed his again to rebuke him, but it wasn’t as forceful as before. 

The smile fell from Catori’s face. “You brat-” 

“It’s alright,” Tokala cut in. “He’s always been this way. Can’t stand when someone beats him, so he resorts to namecalling. I still remember what he called me the night of the Ceremony. Ugly, stupid, all the things you’d hear a toddler say.” 

Wesa’s face began to burn at the memory and Catori and Honovi tittered. 

Finally, the dragon Wesa had hoped he would never see stepped forward and nosed Tokala aside. She fixed Wesa with a sheepish look and said,  _ Ignore him.  _

“Malachite,” Wesa shot back, “you have the gall to speak to me? Miserable traitor. You make a perfect match with Tokala.” The words felt like acid on his tongue, but the way the dragon flinched soothed his itching anger. 

Without waiting for a response, Wesa spun on his heel and clambered up Galvanize’s side. He gripped one of the soft horns, feeling the electricity race down his arm, and buried his head in her mane as she walked in the opposite direction of the other Apprentices. Wesa could hear Malachite’s distressed whines and the soothing growls of Jet and Howlite, Catori’s dragon. 

_ You shouldn’t cry while holding my horns.  _ Galvanize’s voice was gentle.  _ You can shock yourself.  _

“Shut up, I’m not crying,” Wesa mumbled, wiping the tears away. “Just take me to the queen so I can get this day over with.” He could feel Galvanize’s hesitation, almost sensed her asking if he was okay, but in the end, she remained silent. They left the main chamber of the spire and wandered through the crowded halls until they came to a large set of doors manned by four dragons and six guards. 

After a minute of brief pleasantries, the guards opened the door to reveal the main chamber of the spire - the Nest. 

Wesa blinked against the sudden increase of light as Galvanize stepped inside. It was a massive room - large enough to take him thirty minutes to walk across - circled by a stream of magma. The room was warm and lively, filled with dining tables and comfortable furniture as well as an assortment of books. 

Queen Shaila stood among a cluster of nobles, dragons and otherwise, and gave out orders. She looked to be a normal stone dragon except for one thing - the queen towered over the other dragons by almost three times. She was massive to the point of seeming ungainly, though there was a permanent aura of serendipity around her that made her seem graceful and unhurried.

Like the other kings and queens, Queen Shaila was a Great Dragon and the first stone dragon. Her influence over the stone and rock was unparalleled and, though Wesa had never had the opportunity to see her in battle, she was said to be a moving fortress of unyielding power. 

Right now, however, Queen Shaila was a mother hen. She noticed Wesa and Galvanize approach at once and shooed the others away, leaving only the three of them. Once the Nest has cleared, a deep  _ sigh  _ rippled across the room and the queen was enveloped with a pale brown light that seemed to crack and crumble. 

Wesa looked away from the light, hoping his eyes were dried. 

“You two are late again,” the voice was soft and gentle, and most of all verbal. Wesa turned back to see the Great Dragon in her most vulnerable form - human. 

“We were waylaid by old acquaintances,” Wesa replied, bowing slightly. Queen Shaila looked like every other Akmaoan, with dark skin and dusky brown eyes, but her hair reached nearly to her waist in thick dreadlocks. She wore a simple brown dress without any adornments, which was practically unheard of for Akmaoans. 

The queen clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “That’s not an excuse and you know it, Wesa.” Her gaze turned to Galvanize. “And you. Baraq arrived almost an hour ago and you were supposed to be there to greet him.” 

Galvanize shuffled her wings sheepishly.  _ We were… busy.  _

Queen Shaila fixed them both with a keen look. “I know it hasn’t been the best apprenticeship for you two, but at least try to pretend it’s alright. Just for tonight.” She smoothed out her dress before grimacing at it. “I want to change before the ceremony starts, so you’ll have to excuse me. Instead of greeting Baraq like you were  _ supposed to do,  _ you’ll escort one of the hopefuls.” 

Wesa couldn’t help but frown. “A hopeful? Isn’t there anything better for me to do?” 

“If you were so worried about that,” Queen Shaila said sharply, “then you would have been here early and met Baraq like you were supposed to!” Then she took a deep breath. “Wesa, Galvanize. Do you know why the Mother saw fit to give me two forms?” 

“So you can bridge the gap between the dragons and the people,” Wesa muttered. It was basic history taught to every child. 

Queen Shaila raised an eyebrow. “Which means I’m responsible for mending broken bonds like yours. Please, just try to understand Galvanize? And Malachite.” 

Wesa pointedly looked at the ground. After a moment, he said “I feel like the Mother would have been better off giving  _ all  _ dragons two forms so we can solve our problems by ourselves.” 

With an exasperated  _ ugh,  _ the queen threw up her arms. “You are as impossible as your grandfather! I certainly see the resemblance every day! Go on, shoo. Beryl and the kid are waiting for you in the dining hall. He’s got bright red hair, curly like a sheep. You can’t miss him.” 

“Yes, my lady.” Wesa bowed stiffly before briskly walking out of the Nest, feeling both annoyed and guilty.  _ This kid better be worth my time,  _ he grumbled silently.  _ I can’t believe I’m spending my afternoon escorting someone around.  _

* * *

The kid was not worth Wesa’s time. He barely looked sixteen and so skinny Wesa thought a slightly strong breeze might knock him over. “Are all Luleans like this?” He hissed under his breath. 

_ As far as I know, yes.  _ Wesa could sense Galvanize was just as puzzled at the pair before them. 

True to Queen Shaila’s word, it really was impossible to miss the pair, even in the bustling dining hall. 

A boy with a shock of red hair and a stone dragon older than Galvanize by four times were sitting at a table, staring back at them. They were in the middle of a meal that seemed to consist of only fruits and wore the plainest clothing physically possible - green tunics. Wesa wasn’t an expert in fashion by any stretch, but he was still Akmaoan and recoiled at the drab. 

“I’m Bram.” The stranger waved a little. “I think you two are supposed to be our guides today?” 

“More like chaperones.” Wesa forced a smile to his face. “Bram and… Beryl, isn’t it?” 

The ancient stone dragon dipped his head, eyeing Wesa sharply.  _ You look exactly like your grandfather.  _ A deep, gravelly voice echoed in his head and he realized after a moment that it must have been Beryl. 

“I get that a lot,” Wesa said dryly. He shifted awkwardly on his feet and glanced at Galvanize, who just stared calmly back and said nothing. 

Bram coughed and stood up, a full head shorter than Wesa. “Well, we’re supposed to stay at the, um, Dens? Is that what they’re called?” 

“The Dens, yeah.” Wesa shifted and started walking. “They’re not too far from here. Just about a ten-minute walk.” 

For a moment, Wesa hoped Bram would get lost in the crowd, but then he heard the scuffling of the boy’s feet -  _ is he barefoot?  _ He glanced back to see that Bram was, indeed, barefooted. 

“Aren’t your feet hurting?” Wesa asked as they entered one of the hallways. The black spire wasn’t as crowded as the rest of the castle, but there were still enough Stone Mages who shot Bram curious looks that Wesa was getting second-hand embarrassment. 

Bram stared at Wesa strangely, as if  _ he  _ were the weird one. “Luleans don’t wear shoes. It would be impossible to climb into our cities.” 

“Climb?” Wesa ducked out of the way of a pair of chittering escaped dragonets, who were quickly followed by two guards and, presumably, their mother. “Do you not have roads?”

“Hard to have roads when you live in trees.” 

Wesa’s head snapped towards Bram. “What?! You live in trees?”

The look of sheer disbelief on Bram’s face was enough to make Wesa pause. “Just because your people live in stone houses doesn’t mean everyone does.” 

Wesa shook his head. “What happens when it rains?” 

“We waterproof our houses. Like normal people.” Bram rolled his eyes, pricking at Wesa’s nerves. “Do you really not know anything outside of Akmao?” 

“It’s not exactly taught to us,” Wesa replied sharply. 

_ Boys.  _ Beryl’s tone was kind but stern.  _ Do not get riled up over these things. Our countries are different, but we are still one people.  _

Wesa’s lips twitched. The saying was ancient, probably as old as the Great Dragons themselves, but it never seemed to be accurate. 

Bram, however, sheepishly looked down. “Right. I’m sorry.” He gave Wesa a crooked smile, which made him seem slightly older. “We’ve been on the road for the past couple of days and I’m tired. I didn’t mean to be so prickly.” 

Wesa had no such sentiment, but Galvanize nudged him with her wing and he said, “I guess I’m sorry too.” 

Galvanize made a low  _ srrrr  _ noise, electricity racing through her mane.  _ Just be thankful it’s not held in Vesiwai. Their above-water cities are miserable.  _

Bram snickered, making Wesa look back at him. The boy just shrugged, a smile still on his face. “Sorry. Beryl said something like that a couple of days ago. I guess some things transcend species.” 

“They’re subspecies.” Wesa shook his head. “They can still breed, which means they’re not separate species at all.” 

“Subspecies is a mouthful when you’re making a joke.” Bram pointed out. 

Galvanize’s laughter echoed in Wesa’s head and made his cheeks flush. “That’s-” 

“Anyway,” Bram hurried on, “who’s your grandfather?” 

The subject change was so quick that Wesa thought he had whiplash. “Pardon me?” 

“Your grandfather.” Bram stared back curiously. “Beryl said you looked like him. Is he famous or something?” 

Wesa pulled a face. “... famous, I guess.” He paused at one of the various windows, then pointed to a massive statue of Queen Shaila. It was an exquisite piece, almost twice the size of the actual queen and almost ten times the size of a normal dragon, carved from solid corundum. She was reared up, her wings spread halfway behind her, her mouth opened in a ferocious roar. 

Standing below was the statue of a man, tall and broad. From this distance, the features were indistinct, but upon closer inspection, one would see the stark resemblance to Wesa. “His name is Yiska. He’s Queen Shaila’s bondmate. All of his descendants want to be Dragon Sages like him.” 

Bram didn’t seem too impressed, but that was a pleasant surprise for Wesa. He was sick of people fawning over him for being Yiska’s family. 

Beryl shifted on his feet and then fixed Wesa with a sharp stare, making his heart skip a beat.  _ If you don’t mind me asking,  _ the dragon made a deep rumble in his chest,  _ why did you pair with an electric dragon? I’ve never heard of your family ever pairing with another type of dragon.  _

Wesa clenched his fists tightly. “It- it doesn’t matter. Shut up about it.” 

“Hey!” Bram stepped forward, glaring up at Wesa. “He was just asking a question! Are all Akmaoan’s rude or is it just you?” 

“It was a question I don’t want to be asked.” Wesa shot back. 

Beryl rumbled and stared hard at Bram, clearly telling him something, but the boy still stood tall and crossed his arms. It would have been intimidating if he wasn’t half of Wesa’s size. “It’s just a question. You can answer it.” 

Wesa felt Galvanize’s warning press against his mind, but he mentally shoved her away and looked Bram in the eye before saying, “Fine. You want to know? I didn’t  _ want  _ Galvanize. She picked me while I was drunk and upset about the dragon I  _ actually  _ wanted picking someone else.” He was breathing heavily, waiting for Bram to shrink back and look abashed, like the others had. 

Instead, Bram’s lips curled into a disdainful frown. “You… you really are ungrateful, aren’t you? Galvanize deserves better than that.” 


	4. The Ceremony

Bram stared at Wesa, feeling bewildered. “Don’t you feel even a little ashamed? You’re saying this right in front of your bondmate!” The electric dragon, Galvanize, made a low  _ ruuurrr  _ in the back of her throat and stepped in front of Wesa. 

_ He’s still hurting,  _ the dragon’s voice was soothing but sharp in Bram’s mind.  _ Let him be.  _

“You can’t really think that.” Bram stared at Galvanize, stunned. She was the first electric dragon he’d ever seen and utterly stunning, the color of honeywort and ink.  _ How can anyone not adore her? She’s so gentle too!  _

Wesa peered from behind Galvanize’s leg. “It doesn’t matter.” The man said stiffly. “It’s the truth and that’s not changing anytime soon. Just hurry up, alright? I don’t want to spend my evening waiting for you to waddle your way up to the Dens.” 

Bram opened his mouth to give a sharp retort, but Beryl growled deeply in his chest. The sound was strong and devastating, like rocks shattering, and made the hair on the back of Bram’s neck rise. Both he and Wesa stared in shocked silence. 

_ I have heard many things in my life, boy,  _ Beryl hadn’t bothered to focus on Wesa, blasting his words for anyone nearby to hear,  _ but you truly are a different breed of cruelty. This young lady is your life partner. You should start treating her like it.  _

“I…” Wesa’s dark skin flushed red, but he had no reply. 

Beryl gave a contemptuous snort before lowering himself slightly.  _ Bram, I can take us to the Nest without him.  _

“I’m not about to argue,” Bram muttered, climbing up Beryl’s side. The saddle was gone, removed when they had arrived, but Bram was too annoyed to care.  _ How could he  _ think  _ that about his own dragon, let alone say it in front of her?  _ He glanced at Wesa and Galvanize, who watched Beryl take off with unreadable expressions. 

When they were in the air, Bram gently touched Beryl’s mind. The old dragon was still fuming. “I can’t imagine all Akmaoans are like that.” 

_ Indeed not!  _ Beryl growled as he cut through the air, avoiding a few younger dragons who were testing their wings in the afternoon air.  _ And a grandchild of Yiska, no less! I wonder what the queen thinks about that.  _

Bram hesitated. “Speaking of that… I thought Yiska would be an old man by now.” He turned halfway around to see the statue, which was dwindling behind them as they approached a cluster of small, stout houses set on the edge of the mountain. “He’s been around for, well, forever.” 

Beryl rumbled deep in his chest as he landed, the sudden jolt from the impact nearly making Bram fall off his back.  _ Just as the Great Dragons are immortal, their bondmates are as well. I’ve only met Yiska and Lady Nyima of Vieciara, but both appear young. Before he was murdered, they say Lord Konane of Narahi looked to be an ancient dwarf. Perhaps they appear as they wish, or choose to age.  _

“Konane?” Bram slipped off of Beryl’s back, landing lightly on the ground. “I haven’t heard of him.” Beryl fixed him with a keen look. 

_ You would know if you paid attention in school.  _

Bram felt his cheeks heat up, but he just smiled. “Everyone says that about everything. I’ve managed just fine until now.” 

Beryl snorted deeply before leading the way to the central hut where a young stone dragon was curled lazily in the sunshine.  _ You’ll have a lot to learn if you become an Apprentice.  _ He then turned to the dragon and said something, prompting her to slowly stand and stretch before pulling out a scroll as large as Bram was. She scanned it before grunting and looking towards Bram. 

_ You’re in the seventh slate hut, to the west. The ceremony is tonight after dusk.  _

“Thank you.” Bram bowed slightly. The dragon just huffed quietly and curled back up, evidently more interested in sleeping than making idle talk. 

_ Young dragons nowadays are so lazy.  _ Beryl said as he lumbered away.  _ Back in my day… _

Bram tuned out Beryl’s long-winded lecture and observed the little town of stone huts. Akmao was a strange place indeed, all angular and gray, with the occasional shiny gemstone or brown rock. It lacked the flourishing life of Lulea and seemed so desolate and barren that Bram was already becoming homesick. And his feet were hurting too. 

_ Akmaoans sure make the hardest roads.  _ Bram sulked, eyeing the cobbled street. His soles were calloused, but even the meanest maple tree’s bark wasn’t as hard and uncomfortable as gravel and stone. 

Various dragons peered curiously at Bram as he passed - mostly stone and earth dragons, but the occasional lightning or fire dragon watched with slitted eyes. “They’re not very friendly.” Bram murmured to Beryl. 

With a sharp snort, Beryl’s thick tail slammed against the ground, creating a small crater. The staring dragons quickly scurried away, disappearing into the stone huts or taking off into the air.  _ Don’t pay them any attention. It’s because,  _ he hesitated before continuing,  _ because you’re from Lulea.  _

“Because I’m a dhampir, you mean.” Bram glanced over his shoulder. Vampires were rare across the eight kingdoms, and their half-breed offspring were even rarer. “You know it doesn’t bother me.” 

_ It’s still rude of them.  _ Beryl snorted deeply and paused outside a hut made of plates of pale gray stone.  _ Here. I won’t fit inside, but you should go in and take a nap.  _

“A place where dragons can’t fit?” Bram was bewildered. “Akmaoans really are insane.” 

Beryl gave a good-natured growl.  _ Show a bit of respect, boy. This is my home country after all. Remember these huts are used for those who don’t have a bondmate yet. Most of you won’t have a dragon, bonded or not, so it made more sense to make many small ones rather than a few large ones.  _

Bram shook his head. “I still don’t believe it.” He turned towards the hut but then paused. “... Beryl, are you going to leave now?” 

The old dragon hesitated before leaning forward and pressing his forehead into Bram’s body.  _ Not until after the Ceremony, but yes. It’s my time to rejoin my brethren in the mountains. I’ve spent too long away nursing my wounds.  _

Tears unexpectedly sprang to Bram’s eyes, but he forced a smile to his face. “Of course. Tonight we can talk after the Ceremony, and you can meet my dragon.” 

_ Silly boy.  _ Beryl rumbled deep in his chest, but his eyes were kind.  _ You’re so much like your father. I’m very proud of you. Now, go rest. The time is drawing near. _

* * *

“I feel underdressed,” Bram muttered. He was wearing the same clothes he arrived in - a simple Lulean tunic. Everyone else, however, was dressed lavishly. Dresses and tailcoats seemed to be the most common, though Bram saw more than a few people wearing armor. 

“All Akmaoans dress like this,” Wesa said coolly. He was standing beside Bram, dressed in a rich purple tailcoat over a crisp white shirt and brown pants. It was a stark contrast to his bare-chested style from earlier. 

Bram sighed and shifted awkwardly on his feet. The Ceremony was unbearably dull, to the point that he was starting to wonder if it was a cruel joke. 

Wesa, when he’d finally shown up, had practically dragged Bram to a massive cathedral filled to the brim with dragons and people. The Akmaoans had no reservations about flaunting wealth and prosperity - stone tables that were several yards long laden with food and drink; musicians plucking their lyres and instruments Bram couldn’t name stationed around the room; green-clad servants bringing food, wine, and anything else a guest might need. It was so drastically different than the Lulean parties that Bram felt he had been dropped into a whole new world. 

Earlier, Bram had barely been able to sleep. He daydreamed about what the Ceremony would be like, who he would partner with, what he would say. But now that it was here, he was grinding his teeth against the dullness. No dragon had even approached yet, despite the night getting late.

Bram sighed again and glanced over at Wesa. He still didn’t understand how the man could be so callous to Galvanize, who was talking with the other lightning dragons, but he was unbearably bored. “Well, can you tell me more about Akmao?”

“Did you really come here without knowing anything about our culture?” Wesa’s voice was edged with exasperation. 

“You know, a lot of people have been asking me something like that lately.” Bram shot Wesa a crooked smile. “They always seemed surprised.” 

Wesa’s face wavered, and then he snorted. “I see. Where do I even begin?” 

“You can start with why everyone looks like a shop front.” Bram waved his hand to a lady who was wearing enough gold and precious gems to fund a jeweler for a year. 

“It’s just how Akmaoans are.” Wesa rolled his eyes. “Precious metals and gemstones are abundant here, so we wear them. I assume Luleans have… flowers?” 

“Flowers are terribly hard to make clothes out of,” Bram laughed. “I think they’d wilt before you finished making them. My mother is a weaver and her best friend is a tailor, so I know an unfortunate amount about clothing. We mostly use kapok and leather, or flax and cotton when the exports from Akmao come.” 

Wesa shrugged. “Explains why your clothes are so plain. I- oh.” He suddenly stepped back, making Bram’s heart jump. 

An air dragon had approached them, his eyes curious and bright. “Hello,” Bram said, almost afraid to breathe. 

The air dragon was dainty, or at least as dainty as a creature his size could be. Unlike other dragons, his wings were cloaked in pearly white feathers like an eagle. The feathers continued up the neck to become a plumed crest at the top of his head and down the spine to create a puff at the end of the tail. 

When the dragon moved, Bram saw feathers on his elbows as well. It was the first air dragon Bram had ever met, and it was truly an unusual beauty. However, it made a light chirp sound before turning and walking away again. 

Bram felt a bit deflated as he glanced over at Wesa. “I’m guessing that’s a no.” 

Wesa nodded solemnly. “You’ll definitely know if it’s a yes. I wouldn’t worry too much about the air or water dragons. They don’t typically pick people who can’t… survive in their countries.” 

“Survive?” Bram gave the retreating air dragon a sidelong look. “I know Vesiwai is underwater, but what’s wrong with Vieciara?” 

_ It exists solely in mountain cliffs so high most dragons can’t fly there.  _ The voice made both Bram and Wesa jump, and the air suddenly got a few degrees hotter. 

A dragon approached them, looking rather curious. It was as if a stone dragon had swallowed molten magma, becoming taller and leaner. Instead of two ram horns than curled down, a dozen horns twisted backward to create a crown, with more spikes along the nose and forehead. The spines continued down the back, terrifyingly sharp, and ended in a tail that was so spiked it might as well have been a mace. 

Though most of the dragon was black, fire seemed to surge along her chest and neck, as if it was desperately trying to escape the confines of the scales. The dragon’s eyes also held fire - no pupils or irises, just red and gold flames burning just beneath the surface. 

Bram stared, open-mouthed. Fire dragons weren’t welcome in Lulean forests due to plants combusting when nearby, but this one was beautiful. After a moment, he snapped out of his staring trance and smiled. “Have you been to Vieciara, then?” 

_ No.  _ The fire dragon’s tail flicked and a nearby earth dragon ducked to avoid getting impaled on it.  _ But my hatchmate went once and told us his fire almost went out because the oxygen was so low.  _ She paused and gave Bram an intense stare. They locked eyes for a long time, silent, before she continued.  _ I’m Scorch.  _

“Bram Farwater.” He wasn’t quite sure what else to do or say, but he didn’t want to be the one to break eye contact with Scorch. They stared at each other for almost a minute, neither blinking. 

In the end, neither of them looked away, and it was someone else who interrupted. 

“Watch out!” Wesa cried, and both Bram and Scorch jumped away as an air dragon, the same one from before, went tumbling in between them. 

Nearby, snarling viciously, was a shadow dragon. 

The dragon looked as if any unique traits had been stripped away. He lacked feathers, armored scales, spinal spikes, or any of the other features of the other dragons. A long pair of horns graced his head, curving backward slightly, and his claws were pale white. The rest of his body was the inky color of a moonless night. However, when the dragon spread his wings, the webbing between the bones was silvery moonlight and seemed to faintly glow. 

Beside the shadow dragon was an almost identical dragon, though this one was pearly white. His wings were webbed with golden sunlight and his claws were the same color. A light dragon. 

Bram watched them, fascinated, but the fight lasted mere seconds before two stone dragons stormed over and broke it up. The shadow and light dragons gave the guards identical glares before sweeping away to a darkened corner, while the air dragon huffed and flew off. 

_ Always a fight.  _ Scorch said, and when Bram looked over her eyes were gleaming.  _ King Anvar told us not to cause trouble, but it’s no fair when the other dragons get to cause a stir and we don’t even get to enjoy it.  _

“Your fire might cause a lot more trouble than wind from an air dragon.” Bram pointed out, forcing a smile. The mere presence of Scorch made the area heat up - he couldn’t imagine how hot her fire would be. 

Scorch seemed pleased.  _ Indeed. You’re a smart kid.  _ She watched him expectantly, the fire in her eyes shimmering in the dim light. 

Just as Bram was about to say something, Scorch’s head turned as shouting erupted from the other side of the room. Bram couldn’t see what was going on, but it was evidently interesting enough to draw Scorch away. He watched her leave, his stomach twisting slightly. 

“Did,” Bram glanced over to Wesa nervously, “I just miss my chance?” 

Wesa just gave a small smile. “Maybe. She was waiting for you to do something.” 

Bram pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “What was I supposed to do? Ask her to be my bondmate?” He sullenly glared at the floor. “I hope she comes back.” Wesa shifted beside him awkwardly. 

“I’m sure you’ll have more chances,” Wesa said, “don’t worry about it. There’s plenty- there are a few dragons left.” It was the opposite of reassuring. 

Bram felt a pit open up in his stomach as he looked around the banquet hall.  _ There has to be  _ someone  _ here for me.  _ He frantically searched for Scorch, but there she was with a grinning young woman who looked wilder than a badger. Even the few shadow and light dragons had seemingly each found a bondmate, though a couple had retreated away and didn’t look interested anymore. 

“Wesa…” Bram turned cold. “What happens if I don’t get a bondmate?” He tried to recall what Beryl or his mother had said, but it was all a blur in his mind. There had never been a single doubt in his mind that he’d find a bondmate of his own. 

For a moment, Wesa hesitated. His face flickered between pity and indignation. “You didn’t… know beforehand?” At Bram’s scowl, he cleared his throat. “Those who don’t get bondmates aren’t, well, they’re not allowed to try again.” 

“Why?” Bram cried, his chest tightening. “You have to be joking!” 

_ That’s how it’s always been.  _ Galvanize appeared above, gliding down from the eyrie above where other dragons were conversing. She had a gentle look in her eye as she lowered her head down to Bram’s level.  _ It’s rare, but it happens. You can still work with your queen and the dragons, though. Don’t fret.  _

How could Bram explain the crushing disappointment in his heart? He wasn’t oblivious - almost every dragon was either paired up or had already left. The others were right. Bram wasn’t Dragon Sage material. 

“It’s already too late.” Bram smiled bitterly, starting to feel numb. “I’m- I’m tired. Can we go back now?” 

Wesa shifted on his feet. “You’re not going to wait?” 

Bram stared for a long time before asking, “Do you honestly think any dragons left would pick me?” Wesa wouldn’t look at him, just shrugged. 

_ Resting is good.  _ Galvanize’s voice was soothing as she gently nudged Bram. He didn’t have the strength to resist, feeling light-headed and heavy-hearted at the same time. Wesa followed silently behind, a complicated look on his face. 

Just as Bram was leaving, he felt a chill run down his spine. He paused and turned, his heart skipping a beat, but saw nothing. He gritted his teeth.  _ Now you’re just imagining things to get your hopes up.  _

Galvanize’s gentle prodding got Bram moving again as he internally mulled over what had happened.  _ You just blew your shot, that’s what happened.  _ He felt like such an idiot. 

As the little group walked silently across the courtyard, Bram grinding his teeth, massive shadows swept over them from above. His head shot up and he caught sight of three massive dragons - stone, earth, and fire. He recognized Queen Amaranth’s pink cherry blossoms as the petals drifted down, blown from her horns by the wind, so he assumed the stone dragon was Queen Shaila and the fire dragon was King Anvar of Narahi. 

Disappointment and anger still twisted in Bram’s chest, but as a flower drifted down from Queen Amaranth and landed near his feet, he felt calmer.  _ I’ll ask her if I can still work for her.  _ He told himself sternly.  _ And maybe… maybe one day I’ll have another chance.  _


	5. The Hall of Ancients

Wesa trailed after Bram, his heart conflicted. The disappointment, shock, and sadness in the boy’s face were more than enough to make Wesa feel guilty. He looked to Galvanize, but she seemed intent on soothing Bram. 

_ Fine.  _ Wesa glanced away. It didn’t matter anyway. He had no words to explain the feeling in his chest. 

Flower petals the color of morganite fluttered in front of the group, making Wesa pause. Instinctively he reached out to pluck one from the air - it was soft and delicate, tearing as soon as he touched it. More spun around them and, when Wesa looked up, he saw Queen Shaila fly by, with two other Great Dragons accompanying her. The pink petals were coming from what Wesa could only assume was Queen Amaranth. 

Galvanize made a high-pitched  _ whir _ in greeting, but the Great Dragons were too far to hear. She turned to Wesa instead, her violet eyes shining.  _ I have an idea. We should go to the Hall of the Ancients and let Bram look at the Relics.  _

Wesa frowned. “Why?” 

With a deep sigh, Galvanize fixed her sharp gaze on Wesa.  _ He’s upset, can’t you see? It’ll take his mind off of things. Besides, it always makes you feel better.  _

“That’s not-” Wesa felt his cheeks heat up. “That’s different. It won’t be the same for him.”

_ Too bad. I’m going to take him there anyway.  _

“I feel like you’re talking about me.” Bram glanced over. He was cupping a full blossom in his hand, a calm look on his face. Wesa blinked in surprise at the change. 

_ I want to show you the Hall of the Ancients.  _ Galvanize changed her course and headed into the castle again, causing Wesa to roll his eyes.  _ It’s where Akmao keeps important historical items from every country.  _

“Because of the wars, right?” Bram asked, tucking the blossom behind his ear. Wesa thought it made him look like a girl, but he decided not to say anything. 

_ Yes. Akmao stays neutral in every war, so Queen Shaila has been entrusted with safekeeping many artifacts from across the continent.  _

“Beryl mentioned something like that,” Bram commented, then glanced at Wesa. “Isn’t it your job to take care of them?”

“It’s the job of the Stone Sages, yes.” Wesa’s lip twitched, but he held back his grimace. “Since I’m an Electric Apprentice, I wasn’t allowed to work too closely with anything. Many of the Sages don’t trust outsiders.” 

Bram frowned, his eyes glittering like diopside in the dim glow of the wall-mounted torches. “But you were born in Akmao, right? And you grew up with everyone here. Why wouldn’t they trust you?” 

“Isn’t that the question of the century?” Wesa smiled bitterly. 

Galvanize’s tail cracked like a whip as she flicked it, making both Bram and Wesa jump. She glanced guiltily at them and said,  _ Sorry. I didn’t mean to be loud.  _ Wesa could sense her unease and a lingering sense of sadness. 

Bram didn’t seem perturbed. “Why is your tail like that?” At Galvanize’s quizzical look, he hastily added, “The shape, I mean. I know at least the earth and stone dragons use their tails for balance, but yours is too thin.” 

Wesa stared at Bram, mouth open. Was he really that obliviously rude? “You can’t just ask someone why their bodies are a certain way!” 

Galvanize, however, was amused.  _ It’s used for directing currents of electricity while we fly. So we don’t shock our riders, mostly, but also to alert other electric dragons that we’re flying nearby.  _

Bram, to Wesa’s increasing annoyance, ignored him and grinned at Galvanize. “I think some riders could do with a couple of little shocks.” 

With a snort, Galvanize shook her head. Her mane shivered with the movements, sparks shooting out in brilliant arcs.  _ Even a  _ small  _ shock from us can kill other dragons, dhampir. Some electric dragons, particularly powerful ones, can even produce enough lightning to shatter a mountain top.  _ Pride radiated off of her so intently that Wesa couldn’t even bring himself to remind her that she could control her magic as well as he could - that is, not at all. 

“I don’t think the stone dragons would be pleased about that.” Bram laughed. He was suddenly glib and bright-eyed again. 

Wesa just couldn’t understand.  _ It was as if his dream hadn’t just shattered in front of him.  _ For a moment, he wondered if Bram had actually wanted to become a Dragon Sage at all or if it was just a passing fancy. With a sigh, he shook his head. It wasn’t his problem anyway. 

“Hey, you’re falling behind!” Bram’s cheery voice made Wesa’s head snap around. The other two had walked to the far side of the hallway before stopping to wait for him. “We’re going to leave you if you continue to be slow.” 

“You just walk too fast!” Wesa felt his skin heat up in embarrassment. “Akmoans don’t sprint everywhere we go. It’s not how we are.” Still, he picked up the pace, unsure why he was even tagging along. It wasn’t as if the Hall of the Ancients had anything he’d never seen before anyway.

Yet, as the group turned to the entranceway, Wesa felt a surge of childish excitement. 

In the entire Black Opal Palace, nothing was as meticulously cared for more than the Hall of the Ancients. Even the archway that led into it was carved with such intricate detail that the flowers seemed to sway in a nonexistent breeze, the animals mere moments away from breaking into a run. The door itself was solid platinum, with gold and onyx embellishments on it, and the moment Galvanize approached it swung open by itself. 

Inside, the carvings and decorations were surprisingly muted, for an Akmoan building at least. No precious gemstones or flawlessly chiseled sculptures adorned the walls, and there was a distinct lack of furniture. The only decor were the chandeliers hanging from above that cast green-tinged light from the enchanted flames within. 

Despite the bland decor, the Hall was alive. Painted along the walls were glorious depictions of ancient times - battles fought, treaties made, crises overcome. It was the history of the Eight Kingdoms as far back as the creation of the continent itself, painted with enough beauty that it could make a pearl wither in shame. 

“Whoa,” Bram breathed. Wesa saw the look of sheer wonder in the boy’s face. “This is… amazing.” 

_ It’s our history.  _ Galvanize stood beside the first mural, her violet eyes glimmering.  _ See, this is when the Mother created the Great Dragons.  _ Behind her was a depiction of the Great Mother, enveloped in a brilliant white glow that obscured features, and the seven eggs that hatched the Great Dragons. 

“And this one must be her becoming the land, right?” Bram asked, moving to the next. “It’s beautiful.”

Wesa came to stand beside the pair. “My people take great pride in maintaining this. The painters are trained from childhood to do this job alone, and many of them still never reach the skill that would allow them to actually paint a mural.” 

“That must suck.” Bram flashed a crooked grin. 

“It’s how we make sure these are perfect.” Wesa just shrugged. “There are only two-hundred and five murals and a dozen painters each generation, so it’s not like everyone is going to become one.” 

Galvanize snorted.  _ Akmoans are strange, yes? In Mincarae, no one is raised from birth to do a job. We’re free to choose what we want to be.  _

“We can choose!” Wesa protested, but Bram and Galvanize were already strolling along the path of murals. 

_ This is when King Sado betrayed his bondmate, Runa.  _ Galvanize was saying.  _ He sacrificed her to summon an ancient evil. It’s seen as the most unforgivable crime committed in the Eight Kingdoms.  _ She shook her head solemnly.  _ I can’t imagine what insanity possesses him to murder his own bondmate.  _

“You don’t ever think about just dropping Wesa off a cliff?” Bram laughed lightly but looked a bit pale as he contemplated the macabre scene in front of him. It was one that gave every Akmoan child nightmares, and many adults could scarcely look at it. 

In excruciating detail, the mural depicted a beautiful dark elf woman laying among a bed of lotus flowers. The delicate white petals were splattered with blood and gore from the wound that cut through her throat and down to her navel, exposing bone and viscera. King Sado, shadows wreathing his twisted form, stood above her with a ghostly red wraith curling around his head like a ghastly crown. 

Interestingly, the painter had decided to paint King Sado crying. 

Galvanize made a deep  _ ruuur  _ in her throat and moved on.  _ I come  _ very  _ close to dropping him off cliffs, but I never do.  _

“His ghost would probably come back to haunt you, so it’s not worth it.” 

“I’m still right here, you know.” Wesa rolled his eyes, causing the other two to laugh. 

The mood lightened, the group moved on to the other murals. Each showed a particular scene that was important to the kingdoms, such as King Anvar raising the cities of Narahi from the molten volcanos or Lord Henrik slaying the wicked serpent that had wounded Queen Iara. 

“This is Lulea, right?” Bram asked, pausing in front of one of the paintings. “When Lady Merel caught the White Stag and he rose the Mother Tree for her.” 

Wesa nodded. “Yes.” He came to stand beside Bram, staring up at the massive tree. “Is it really that big?” The Mother Tree was drawn to be larger than many mountains, towering over the rest of the forest like a solemn sentry. Leaves of every shape and color cascaded around it as if it was a shy maiden hiding behind her hair. 

Bram nodded. “You can see it from every corner of the forest.” He hesitated. “I’ve never been there, though. It’s not open to visitors.” 

“It’s not?!” Wesa was stunned. The Black Opal Palace was open at all times of the year for anyone. “How do your people talk to the queen?” 

“She sends her Sages to talk to the Council of Elders once a month.” Bram shifted on his feet. “Lady Merel’s health has always been poor, so it’s wise not to bring in strangers who might get her sick.” He glanced at Wesa. “Why? Does Lord Yiska mingle with, well, commoners?” 

Wesa thought of his grandfather, who often went out to towns just to talk and check in on people. Most Akmoans had met him personally and many had become impromptu caretakers when Yiska invariably became too drunk. “Something like that.” 

_ Come see this!  _ Galvanize called out suddenly. Wesa turned to see her standing beside a glorious painting of King Baraq, her mane shivering with pride.  _ This is a story from my country.  _ As Bram hurried over, his eyes lighting up, Wesa felt a strange pang in his chest. Galvanize was clearly proud of her country, but he couldn’t even dredge up a shred of excitement while thinking of it. 

“Is that Lord Zaid?” Bram asked. “Is he fighting King Baraq?” 

_ Indeed.  _ Galvanize lowered her head so it was level with Bram.  _ This was before the Great Mother decreed that dragons should have bondmates, back when we were at war with the people. Lord Zaid was the chieftain of the Black Fang tribes, which ruled over most of Mincarae, and he refused to let the dragons kill and eat his people. So he challenged King Baraq to a battle.  _

“A human against a dragon?” Bram shook his head in awe. “He must have been the bravest man alive.” 

“Or he had a death wish,” Wesa commented. “And you’re wrong. He’s not a human. No humans live in Mincarae.”

_ He’s a wereleopard.  _ Galvanize crowed, her eyes glittering. 

Wesa shifted uncomfortably. He waited for the disgusted or frightened look to cross the boy’s face, but instead a curiosity shone in Bram’s eyes. “A wereleopard? I didn’t know that.” 

_ Most werebeasts hide themselves away, but that’s not how Mincarae works. Werebeasts are valued. In fact-  _

“Let’s get back to the story!” Wesa interrupted, trying to psychically shove all of his mounting annoyance and uneasiness to Galvanize. She seemed to get the message and lowered her head, looking like a scolded child. 

“Oh, yes!” Thank the Mother, Bram seemed to forget at once as he turned back to Galvanize. “How did he win against King Baraq?” 

_ Win? He didn’t.  _ Galvanize sniffed, lifting her head again.  _ Even under the light of a full moon, he wouldn’t be able to match with the strength of a Great Dragon. A normal dragon, perhaps, but never King Baraq. Yet, even in the face of unrelenting terror and an infallible enemy, Lord Zaid continued to fight. He refused to back down, even when the king held him down and threatened to eat him.  _

_ King Baraq asked, “Why do you run headlong into death? There was no chance you would win against me.” And Lord Zaid told him that no matter what, the people of Mincarae would fight. Their spirits are unstoppable, raging against a world that seeks to destroy them. King Baraq was enthralled with the sheer force of Lord Zaid’s will and let him up. That day, they became partners.  _

“But wasn’t this before bondmates?” Bram asked. 

_ Yes.  _ Galvanize puffed out her chest in pride.  _ Lightning dragons were the first to partner with people, though at the time it was for our mutual survival. The Great Mother took inspiration from us and decreed that every race of dragon should live as we did, alongside people rather than against them.  _

“I would have thought it was King Lucius,” Bram said. “Everyone says how holy and kind he was.” 

Galvanize snorted.  _ Of course they do! Light dragons used to be faithful guardians, holy soldiers. But lightning dragons were the first to partner with people, and don’t you forget it!  _

Bram laughed and shook his head. “I won’t, I won’t.” He glanced back towards the mural. “Maybe I can visit Mincarae one day. It sounds like an interesting place.” 

“Interesting is one way to put it.” Wesa was suddenly very eager to move on. He looked around for a moment, trying to find something to distract Bram. “Hey, would you like to see the Relics?” It worked immediately. 

“The Relics?” Bram’s eyes lit up. “You mean the Great Dragon’s Relics? They’re really here?” 

“Most of them.” Wesa hurried to the end of the hall, past the rest of the paintings. 

_ When King Lucius disappeared, so did the Sunslayer.  _ Galvanize added.  _ As far as anyone knows, it’s lost to time. The Mirror Shield is in Karuge and is jealously guarded by the shadow dragons.  _

“And the Chrysalis is held by Lady Merel at all times, or so I’m told.” Wesa finished. “I think you’ve seen it, it’s in all the artwork of her.” 

“The butterfly crown?” Bram looked surprised. “I didn’t realize that was Queen Amaranth’s Relic.” 

“It’s a diadem.” Wesa corrected. “Crowns sit on top of the head, not drape over the forehead.” 

“Excuse me,  _ diadem. _ ” Bram snorted. “I didn’t realize you were an expert in jewelry.” 

“Every Akmoan is.” 

_ If you’re done bickering,  _ Galvanize said light-heartedly,  _ come look at the rest of the Relics.  _

Bram hurried over to the glass tables where the remaining five Relics were held. Two stone dragons, larger than Galvanize by half and adorned with armor, stood up at attention but let them draw closer. 

“That’s the Bloody Pearl.” Wesa pointed out a trident. A pearl the color of ink glittering from the base of the trident like an eye, making his scalp prickle. “They say it was crafted from the bones of the Reavers, the prehistoric beasts of the deep.” 

“How terrifying.” Bram’s eyes shone. He pointed to a dark red flail, not unlike the tails of stone dragons. “And this one is the Vermillion Star, right? Queen Shaila’s Relic.” 

_ Indeed.  _ Galvanize sat down a respectful distance from the Relic tables. While the guards were confident in their ability to kill two stray people, they were suspicious of a strange dragon and wouldn’t let her come closer. 

“It has the power to shatter the continent, right?” Bram turned to Wesa. “Beryl said something like that.” 

“Shatter a continent?” Wesa raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know about that. It’s a weapon and it’s terrifying in battle. Grandfather sometimes shows us how he can use it.” 

_ Show him the- Bram?  _ Galvanize had a sharp spike of fear that made Wesa’s blood run cold. He turned to Bram, who was reaching out towards a plain-looking staff, and grabbed his wrist. 

“Are you crazy?” Wesa demanded, jerking Bram away. “That’s the Fire Relic! You’ll be turned to ash if you even touch it!” 

Bram blinked. “It is?” He glanced over his shoulder at it. “It looks like a normal staff to me. The top is weird though, like it’s missing a gemstone or something.” 

The guards shifted as Bram stepped back, turning their attention to a new group of people who entered the Hall. Wesa sighed in relief that they weren’t going to eat Bram and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What possessed you to try and grab it?” 

“It just seemed… strange.” Bram sounded defensive, his cheeks tinged red. “I don’t know. Haven’t you ever tried to grab something you weren’t supposed to?” 

“Not when it will kill me.” Wesa shook his head. “You… are something else.” He noticed one of the newcomers reach towards one of the murals from the corner of his eye and turned towards them. “Hey! No touching! The oil from your hands will ruin it!” What was with strangers grabbing things they weren’t supposed to today? 

“Galvanize, can you make sure they don’t mess up the paintings?” Wesa asked in exasperation. “We’ll join you in a minute.” 

With a deep huff, Galvanize turned to the newcomers and made a light  _ churr  _ noise at them. They stopped and turned to her as she began to explain why they couldn’t touch. 

“Well, at least you’re in good company.” Wesa sighed and turned to Bram. His heart jumped to his throat as he realized the boy had slipped past the guards  _ again  _ and reached for the staff. “Bram!” 

Wesa lunged for the dhampir, but he was too late. Bram grabbed the staff and, with a deafening  _ boom  _ that sent Wesa and the guards flying against the wall, a wall of swirling flames erupted from within and engulfed the Lulean boy. 


	6. Eruption

Fire circled Bram like a constrictor snake, curling around him until the heat and light threatened to crush him. His hands, arms, entire body was burning away and yet he still couldn’t let go of the staff. It was plain, carved from a wood Bram didn’t recognize, but it held such fathomless beauty and captivation that he just couldn’t let go. 

Over the crackle of the fire, Bram could hear Wesa’s shouts and the bellowing of the guards, but he just couldn’t seem to care. The pressure was building in his head, becoming infuriated roars compounded by cataclysmic  _ booms.  _ He was sure he would die at any moment. 

Then, with the pressure still rising, it suddenly coalesced in Bram’s head into a single sentence that throbbed with power and rage:  _ Who are you?  _

It was at that moment that Bram’s body finally gave out, and he passed out. 

The next few hours - or was it days? Maybe even seconds - was a kaleidoscope of events that he couldn’t comprehend. Someone came to soothe the burns across his body, the familiar feel of Lulean healing magic washing the pain away. 

Then Bram was flying over a desolate wasteland. Wait, no, that was a dream. He was back in a too-comfortable bed, retching and coughing, with people talking in indistinguishable whispers just above him. For a moment he tried to say something, but someone shushed him and forced him to lay back down. 

When the haziness finally cleared away, Bram found himself in a cozy little room that had a fire blazing near the foot of the bed he was in. The blankets were wool and heavier than the Lulean silk he was used to, but when he tried to slip out of them he found it was too cold. Settling back down, he wrapped the thick sheets around himself and squinted into the blurry darkness. 

As the sleep cleared from his eyes, Bram was suddenly aware that possibly the largest man he had ever seen was sitting across the room. The man’s arms were folded in front of him, each as thick around as an ash tree, and his posture was commanding even while he sat in a small stone chair. His skin was the color of chestnuts and his hair, long like a woman’s and tied into a messy knot, was black. 

“You’re awake.” The man said without opening his eyes. His voice was deep and thrummed with power. 

“I guess.” Bram felt a heavy pit of uncertainty form in his stomach. Something itched at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite place it. 

The man opened his eyes - they were the color of marigolds and flame, burning with their own light - and fixed his gaze on Bram. “Do you know who I am?” 

“Not a clue.” Bram felt a wave of emotion and suddenly felt like he wanted to heave.  _ What was that?!  _ Almost immediately, the unfamiliar feeling pulled away again and the man sighed deeply. 

“You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” 

A voice in Bram’s mind, one that sounded suspiciously like his mother, told him to proceed with caution. “I’m sorry. I don’t.” 

“Of course you don’t!” The man jumped to his feet with such sudden ferocity that Bram tried to step backward, realized he was still sitting, and ended up slamming his head into the wall the bed was set against. At once, the man faltered and looked almost  _ nervous.  _ “Are you okay?” 

That voice from earlier was gone. Bram’s face was burning from a mixture of embarrassment and resentment now, and he couldn’t help but snap, “No! I just woke up in a strange place with no idea why I’m here, and you’ve decided the best way to talk to me is yelling!” 

The man’s head drew back and he stood taller. Bram wasn’t exactly short, but this stranger absolutely dwarfed him. “This is a mess you caused! I have every right to be angry!” 

“I don’t even know what mess you’re talking about!” Adrenaline was pumping through Bram now. He was sure he was about to get pulverized by this behemoth, which wasn’t exactly the most pleasant-sounding way to die. “Would you like to explain or are you going to keep blaming me?!” 

The door creaked open then, making both Bram and the stranger jolt in surprise. A stern Akmoan woman peered in, her eyes flashing. “This is an infirmary.” She hissed lowly. “Do  _ not  _ wake up my patients with your arguing or I  _ will  _ make you regret it.” 

With a growl, the stranger took a step forward. “Excuse you, I-”

“I don’t care who you are or what you’re about to say!” The woman interrupted. “You’ve been warned!” With a  _ whoosh,  _ the door shut again, leaving Bram alone with the man. 

Both of them stared at the door in silence until the man crossed his arms again, having regained his composure. “What’s your name?” 

“What’s yours?” Bram countered. 

The man’s eyes narrowed. “... my  _ name, _ ” he hissed the word out, “is Anvar. King. Anvar. Of. Narahi. Do you understand?” 

Bram felt his heart leap to his throat.  _ Anvar…? King… oh. Oh no.  _ He was staring at the king of the fire dragons, the most volatile and temperamental Great Dragon. At a loss for words, he meekly replied, “I’m Bram.” 

“I see.” King Anvar said simply. He looked at Bram with a mix of exasperation and distaste, as if he was just saddled with an enormous burden. 

_ I can’t blame him.  _ Bram awkwardly shrank back into the blankets, wondering if he could just curl up and become a cocoon.  _ I’m so, so dead. If he doesn’t kill me, Queen Amaranth definitely will.  _

The silence stretched between them until it became unbearable. Bram’s head was throbbing again like something was prodding at it. He gritted his teeth and pulled the blanket closer around him.  _ Just focus on anything else. It’ll go away in a minute.  _

“Will you- will you stop?!” King Anvar’s voice rose like he was about to shout, but he quickly lowered it to an angry hiss. 

Bram stared for a long moment before blurting out, “Stop what? I’m just sitting here.” Was it impolite to stay in bed while a king was standing? He didn’t know. 

King Anvar’s face twitched. “You…” his voice trailed off in part disbelief, part exasperation. “You haven’t figured it out?” 

“Well,” Bram pushed down a growing sense of frustration, “if I  _ figured out  _ whatever you’re talking about, would I still be here?” Probably, considering he could barely move without the world violently spinning around him. 

With a long-suffering sigh, King Anvar met Bram’s eyes sternly. “What do you remember?” 

Bram squirmed under the intense gaze and glanced down at the bed. “Nothing, really. I remember the Ceremony, and then Wesa and Galvanize took me to the Hall of Ancients. We saw some paintings and-” his heart jumped to his throat. “The staff! I grabbed the staff and it- it exploded or something. Are Wesa and the others alright? There were a few dragons and some people-” 

“Everyone is fine.” The king cut Bram off curtly. “And  _ the staff  _ is called the Blaze.” He paused for a moment, clearly trying to find words. “... do you know what the Relics do?” His voice was soft, almost thoughtful. 

Caught off guard by the sudden change, Bram just blinked. “They’re weapons, aren’t they? For the Great Dragons and their bondmates.” 

King Anvar made a noise in his throat that gave Bram the distinct feeling that the dragon would be growling if he could. “They’re not just  _ weapons _ ! Haven’t you learned anything about the Great Dragons?” 

Bram stiffened. “Not everyone is obsessed with learning about history, you know. Lulea doesn’t put much emphasis on it.” 

“Lulea. Of course.” King Anvar rolled his eyes. “Amaranth was never worried about important things. Let me guess - herbalism and archery? Maybe cooking and weaving?” 

As much as Bram wanted to defend his queen and country, the king was spot on. He just bit the inside of his cheek and glowered from under the hood of the blanket. King Anvar seemed to take his silence for confirmation and scoffed before turning away to face the window. 

“The Relics aren’t just weapons, boy. Before dragons were given the ability to bond with people, we forged our bonds in a different way.” The king paused for a moment, his voice heavy. “Unlike common dragons, Great Dragons have the ability to choose their bondmates directly rather than hope our Mother would gift us one.”

Bram shifted on the bed. “I thought all dragons picked their bondmates.” He thought of Wesa and his coldness towards Galvanize. “That’s why some people aren’t happy with their dragon.” 

King Anvar grunted. “Dragons may have an influence on who they’re given, yes, but in the end, it’s our Mother’s choice. Except for Great Dragons. Back then, when we first were given our bondmates, we were told to find someone we could bond with. Someone that we would entrust our lives to.” 

Bram suddenly got a sinking feeling in his gut. “Your bondmate was Konane, right?”

“Yes.” King Anvar’s voice strained with emotion. “Our bondmates…” He sounded as if he wanted to say more, but just shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is what happened when you grabbed the Blaze.” 

“There was a fire,” Bram said weakly. “That’s all. Did I break something?” 

King Anvar finally turned to face Bram again, his face stern. “Our Relics were used to bond with the people before we had the magic to do so. It’s a piece of our very souls. We would offer our Relics to who we wanted to bond with. Since most Great Dragons are already bonded, the Relics hold no power aside from when our bondmates use them in battle.” 

“So,” Bram hesitated, “that means nothing’s wrong?”

“For  _ most  _ of us, nothing would be wrong!” King Anvar’s voice rose again before he took a deep breath, his fists clenching. “Ever since Konane died, I haven’t had a bondmate.” Bram felt himself go cold and the dragon seemed to notice. “Do you understand now? When you took the Blaze, you forged a bond to me.” 

Bram’s mouth opened, but he couldn’t find any words. The pressure in his head squeezed and abated once more and he winced. “Is… is that you?” He gingerly touched his forehead. 

“Now you notice.” King Anvar said dryly. “We have a lot to talk about.” The pressure - the  _ presence  _ \- withdrew completely from Bram’s mind. “First of all-”

The door slammed open with such force that Bram was shocked it didn’t shatter. A furious Akmoan woman stood outside, breathing heavily. 

Even King Anvar seemed unsettled. “Shaila-” 

“Sado is here.” Shaila -  _ Queen Shaila?!  _ Bram felt lightheaded again - hissed. “And he-! Ugh!” She slammed her fist into the door, causing the solid stone to splinter. Bram felt his soul leave his body as the queen turned her eyes on him. “You!” 

To Bram’s surprise, King Anvar stood in between them, his massive body shielding Bram from view. “What is it? Sado is here?” He shifted and Bram felt a wave of uncertainty. 

_ Was that from him?  _ Bram’s heart skipped a beat.

“Get yourself ready,” Queen Shaila said sharply. “Sado is demanding for Bram to apprentice in Karuge.” 

* * *

“I don’t understand.” Bram’s eyes filled with tears, partially from pain and partially from fear, as King Anvar all but dragged him through the hall. His arms and chest were still rife with pain, the newly-healed muscle and skin protesting at the king’s firm grip. “Shouldn’t I apprentice in Lulea? That’s where my home is. Well, was, I guess.” 

King Anvar’s face darkened. “You should, yes. That’s how it traditionally works.” His voice dripped with sourness. “But that’s not technically how the international laws work.” 

“International law?” Bram stumbled before yanking away from King Anvar. “Okay, stop! That hurts!” He scowled as he rubbed his aching arm, his heart hammering. “Can’t you explain what’s going on before we go any further?” 

“We don’t have time!” KIng Anvar growled, but crossed his arms and stopped anyway. “Yes, it’s international law. Meaning across all of our kingdoms, we have to follow a bunch of stupid rules that my siblings thought it oh-so-important to have. Are you caught up now?”

Bram resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “And what do these laws have to do with me?” 

“Because,” King Anvar said each word slowly, as if he was talking to a child, “one of these rules is that we can claim any Apprentice as long as we ask for them first. And guess who asked for you first?” 

Blood running cold, Bram stared at the king, speechless. _King Sado? In Kargue?_ _That’s where I’m going to be apprenticed?!_

“So you understand the problem, yes?” King Anvar started walking again but mercifully didn’t pull Bram along, though his pace was significantly faster than Bram’s. “Technically, Sado has every right to bring you to Karuge and do whatever he sees fit, aside from killing you. Hopefully, he sticks to the laws.” 

“That’s reassuring,” Bram mumbled.  _ If not dying is the best we can hope for, I might be better off just running away.  _ Running off while concealing his newfound bond to a gargantuan fire dragon couldn’t be that hard, could it? 

The pair quickly arrived at a set of doors that were closely guarded by almost a dozen dragons, each with a rider stationed on their backs. Half of them were stone dragons, but there were also a couple of fire and earth dragons among the mix. The fire dragons dipped their heads respectfully towards King Anvar but said nothing as the doors swung inwards. 

As soon as the doors opened a crack, shouting filled Bram’s ears. It was the kind of confused and angry yelling he heard when there was a brawl on the street, not the kind someone should hear in a meeting of royalty. 

Three gigantic dragons were snarling down at one man, who seemed utterly unfazed, while half a dozen people were arguing back and forth off to the side. The shouts and growls were so loud, Bram couldn’t distinguish anything that was being said. Finally, King Anvar stomped his foot against the ground. It seemed to be a childish gesture, but a great fire erupted around the room in a whirling circle. It silenced everyone immediately, almost like a magic trick.

_ Terrifying.  _ Bram’s heart jumped to his throat as the fire crackled and died out, leaving a few scorched scrolls and a burnt tapestry. 

“Anvar!” The woman from earlier, Queen Shaila, whirled on him immediately. “Do not use fire in my castle!” 

“It wasn’t that bad.” Another woman, this one with pale skin and rich red hair, peered at Bram with curious blue eyes. “It could have been worse.” 

_ We are not here to discuss fire!  _ A thunderous psychic voice made Bram’s head throb as the Great Air Dragon, Queen Brisa, growled lowly.  _ Anvar, tell him you’re not going to do it so we can get this over with!  _

“Not going to do it?” The man who had been staring unflinchingly at the three Great Dragons turned to Bram and King Anvar, his voice practically singing with mirth. “And, pray tell, how do you think you’re going to get out of it?” 

Bram quailed at the sight of the man. He was unusually pretty, bordering on feminine, with a clean-shaven face lined with delicate features. His hair was long and silken, tied into a strange braid down his back, and he wore a style of clothing that Bram had never seen before. 

However, no matter his elegant appearance, the man’s eyes were the color of demonic fire. They were crimson red like the petals of the darkest oleander and just as poisonous as the flower. Bram felt sick just looking at them, but soon the man’s gaze turned away and he felt that he could breathe again. 

“Sado,” King Anvar’s voice was a low rumble, “you’re only making more enemies here.” 

King Sado’s eyes narrowed into venomous slits. “Oh?” His voice was deceptively soft. “Tell me, Anvar, what was it the six of you said when Akira became my bondmate? I believe your exact words were ‘we all agreed to these laws, and you don’t want to break them.’ My, how the tables have turned!

“I distinctly recall that the fifth law of the international principles set forth by our eldest brother,” King Sado’s lip curled as if he was baring his fangs, “clearly states that  _ any  _ of us may claim  _ any  _ newly bonded apprentice within the first quarter moon of their bonding. This was the very same law you cited when you forced Akira to stay in Akmao.” 

An uneasy grumble rippled through the room and the Great Lightning Dragon, King Baraq, shifted closer.  _ Right, Akira. How is he? _

“She’s doing fine now that she’s  _ home. _ ” An uncomfortable ait filled the room and Bram cringed.  _ How embarrassing! King Baraq didn’t even remember what gender this Akira was.  _

“Either way,” Queen Shaila pressed, “what makes you think we’d allow this? That law was put into place to keep the balance and peace.” 

“I wasn’t given a choice.” King Sado whirled on the queen, his strange silken robes shifting like shadows around him. “Do you really want to break our laws now, Shaila? Should I start disregarding the laws whenever I want? If you would like to dissolve them, I’ll be the first to sign that edict. My armies are always at the ready and we’re in need of new lands.” 

“You would threaten us?” King Anvar shouted. “So we have to comply with your demands or you’ll invade, is that it?” 

“I was forced to comply with the demands of all of  _ you _ .” King Sado folded his arms. “If I recall correctly, Anvar, it was you who said you would be willing to roast my people if we so much as raised a claw against this excuse of a council. Are you not so willing now that my armies are strong? Have you lost your courage?” 

Shadows were rippling across the room now, combated only by the firelight. The atmosphere tensed, silent and unbearable, until the woman with the red hair stepped forward. “Perhaps we can make a compromise? Sado, Akira returned to you after a year instead of the traditional three. Perhaps you may do the same with Bram. After all, I can’t imagine you have the time to entertain a guest while you manage both Karuge and Luxar.” 

King Sado looked thoughtful, the madness gone like dew in sunlight, and Bram’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced at King Anvar and, though anger was still etched into the lines of his face, it at least softened a bit with relief. 

“A year?” King Sado made a show of stroking his chin. “I suppose that would do. And,” his eyes slid to Bram again, making him feel uneasy, “I’ll even allow Anvar to come. A privilege I was denied, mind you, by our youngest sister.” 

Queen Brisa’s feathers ruffled.  _ You-!  _ She lunged forward with bared teeth, but, as if he was a magician, King Sado stepped to the side and another person appeared from his shadow. Bram’s mouth fell open at the sudden appearance of the fully-armored soldier, but Queen Brisa recoiled as if suddenly facing a dangerous foe. 

The soldier was wearing strange black armor, and his face was obscured behind a mask shaped to be a tiger, but Bram could see from the way the others reacted by his presence that this must have been someone fierce. 

“Sado!” Queen Shaila shouted. “We agreed on no guards!” 

“The Tiger isn’t a guard.” King Sado inspected his nails with an air of such disdain that Bram thought Queen Shaila would strike him down there and then. “Besides, Brisa was going to attack me. How is that fair when you won’t let me take a dragon’s form?” 

“You know why.” Queen Shaila’s face darkened. “And-” 

“That’s enough.” With a wave of his hand, King Sado whirled on his heel. “I’m leaving now. Since Shaila has oh-so-kindly prohibited me from flying in this country, I must be on my way.” 

As they passed, the masked man turned to Bram. His eyes were pale green and frightfully intense, like a predator watching prey. Bram shivered and involuntarily stepped closer to King Anvar.

“Sado-” The red-haired woman stepped forward, but the king was already at the door. 

“Anvar,” King Sado said calmly, “I’ll wait for you at the border. Don’t keep me waiting.” Then, with the masked man at his side, he swept out of the room, leaving it in stunned silence. 


End file.
